*** Muddy, gold and swan-less they get in Autumn - the Volga river and my hometown. The more I think of it now, the sadder the canvas unfolds. The greatest…
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We'd slip quietly upstairs, I'd lead you by a single finger to the roof. On an impulse I'd grab a pillow and would rip out feathers by the handful, I'd…
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*** In the Southern sunlight I walked into the sterile hand symphony of yours. Before you had a second to resist, I shot the image with my eye and moved…
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*** I kiss the left bottom corner of the photo, I touch the force which lifts me higher than the airplane that holds me tight and brings to Budapest. The…
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*** On the art nouveau steps of a theater, the unjewelled silhoette witnessed by maritime figures of pines and me at Villa Torlonia, with no airplanes in the air, moved…
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*** We’d rest on the floor afterwards. As a leaf curl on my stomach your palm would lie, my eye would cascade down a seashell belly-button of yours. My fingers,…
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*** Sometimes I spend lunches in galleries, alone with Flemish or Italian rarities. I'd sit in quietude before a canvas or a statue for minutes. In love with silence of…
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Unseen pattern of inexisting kisses, Unseen insects - cicadas Sing and speak in the Da Vinci’s garden. I feel weightless When running behind you, Leaving the prints on the art…
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With my eyes half-closed And my head to one side (Cause I sleep on my stomach), I slide my arms around your neck And surrender To your un-kisses. Sleepless, I…
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Felt all at sea, Moving as through water over you. ’No day without the line’- Why would you know that? I take a clean sheet, Pick up a pencil, Start…
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